


call me baby

by eightyo



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderswap, Lesbian, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, genderswap AU, wlw, yea they're girls in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightyo/pseuds/eightyo
Summary: (the outsiders-genderswap au) Stephanie "Steph" (Steve) and Sodapop are going through a rough patch in their friendship, leaving Steph with nobody she can trust all that well. Sure, she's got her gang, but Soda was the only one she could *talk* talk to. Alone and drunk at a party, fate leads her back to an old friend and she finds they've got a lot to talk about, and so much more.





	1. the way she looks at me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> august tenth, the year nineteen sixty-three.

“Stop it, Dallas. You know I don’t drink.” Ponygirl grumbled, gazing down forlornly into her red Solo cup. Dallas only grinned, pouring the rest of the cherry-scented mixture into the cup.

“You do now.” Dallas winked at the dark haired girl, pulling away the unlabeled plastic bottle and twisting the cap back on, tossing it behind her without a second thought.

“What even is this stuff, anyways?” She stuck her tongue out in disgust, swishing around the dark red liquid in the cup. “Steph told me earlier but I wasn’t listening.”

“Kool Aid and Bud, pal. Drinkity drinkity!” I elbowed Ponygirl, but not hard enough for her to spill any of the delicious elixir out of the cup.

“What!” Ponygirl exclaimed, and it looks like she might be sick. “That’s fuckin’ gross, you guys. You’re ruining Kool Aid for me. Bud Light is still alcoholic, you know.”

Her remarks bring out whooping drunk laughter from deep in my throat. “You’ve heard of this before. Remember, when me an’ Dally were over out in the field behind the restaurant mixing Kool Aid and Budweiser Dally had snagged from his old man, and-and Darry was there too, only he didn’t really care enough to interfere and you were there too? Your mom made Darry take you and boy did he regret it. You wouldn’t shut the hell up, blubbering about how we were doin’ wrong and shit.”

“I was eleven. Hop off my dick.” Ponygirl muttered, averting her gaze.

“Wait, you used Bud Light? That shit’s for pussies. We use regular Bud.” Dallas shot me a glare, and I shrugged.

“I took what I could find. Darry could only get Bud Light, apparently.” I said.

“Whatever. Budweiser’s some weak ass beer anyways. Which is why we drank it when we were thirteen.” Dallas rolled her eyes, and I silently sent a prayer to God for her to finally fall off her high horse for once.

“Here, you know what? Take it. I’m gonna go try and find Curly.” Ponygirl set the cup down on the table and inched away, before letting herself disappear into the sea of the crowd. She was being a pussy, but who could blame her? She’s only twelve; or was she thirteen? Not like I cared all that much.

“Have fun,” I called halfheartedly after the pale, lanky little twerp, knowing damn well she couldn’t hear me. Dallas and I stood in silence next to the dinner table for a few moments, both staring at the red Solo cup that Ponygirl had left behind with beady eyes.

“If you’re not gonna drink that…” I slowly reached for the Kool Aid Bud Light, gingerly wrapping my hand around it.

“No, no, you can have it.” Dallas mumbled. She seemed distracted; suddenly exhausted from her unfortunate love for alcohol that had been proved time and time again tonight. She absentmindedly pushed her short, dirty blonde bangs aside into her wavy mop of shoulder-length hair, revealing her dazed icy blue eyes.

“Fantastic.” I snatched up the cup and downed it in seconds; Dallas still staring off into the distance. “Ooh. This shit burns in your throat!”

“Yeah.” Dallas said, blinking twice slowly. Clearly, she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, especially not after that first half of the Kool Aid Bud Light hit. I silently slipped away, hoping to cure myself of the inevitable boredom I feel at these types of parties. The type of parties where you know everyone but somehow there’s nobody you want to talk to. I ambled around slowly, peeking in on small groups to see if there was anything of interest going on, to no avail. The generic pop songs playing quietly in the background started to blend into one another, and I found my world wobbling.

“Woah, girl, you’re hammered! That’s funny as fuck!” Suddenly, I was in the hallway, clinging against against a side table. Keitha “Two-Bit” Mathews was kicking me in the thigh repeatedly with her navy nylon skips.

“Oh. Two-Bit. Pleasant surprise.” I croaked, shoving her off of me and propping myself against the chipping white wall. Two-Bit stumbled backwards, boomeranging back towards me.

“You should sit down.” Two-Bit leaned on my already unstable shoulder, her black hair, highlighted red in the dim ceiling light, whipping me in the head tied up in the usual obnoxious high ponytail.

“No, I’m fine. I swear.” I tried to push her off, laughing a bit. Two-Bit was one of my best friends and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t hate her.

“Cool. Are you and Soda still fighting?”

Okay, I might’ve hated her a little bit then.

“I don’t really-“

“Steph, no offense, but you look fuckin’ awful.” A deep yet feminine voice summoned up whatever energy was left inside of my body and made me jump, and I looked over to see Darrelle “Darry” Curtis standing beside me, arms folded menacingly. Where had she even come from? This thought disappeared from my conscience as soon as it had appeared as I realized that Darrelle was probably over here to beat my ass for trying to give Ponygirl alcohol. I was a good enough fighter, sure, and I was relatively athletic, but Darrelle was a fuckin’ powerhouse; she could pin me down in seconds flat. I hadn’t fought with her since elementary school.

“Hey, Darry.” My voice wobbled as I sheepishly uttered the words, smiling widely.

“Hey yourself. Come on, you need to sit down.” Darrelle grabbed my hand, pulling me away from Two-Bit.

“Ha, have fun, looooosers! I’ll just be over here by the back door by myself! Alone!” Two-Bit jokingly yelled at us as Darrelle dragged me out of the dark hallway. I could hardly process what was going on, my mind was so scrambled.

“Thank you so much, Darry. Love ya.” I tripped over both my words and my feet, reaching up to affectionately pat Darrelle on the shoulder as she led me to the living room. From what my blurred vision could pick up, there were a few people milling about in the living room, and their tiny TV was on with some dumb sports game on. The time was barely visible in the bottom left corner of the screen, but it was readable. 11:57 PM; nearly midnight. Thank God I was just at the Curtis’s house; if I was out anywhere else this late, my dad would whoop my ass. She paused suddenly, and the next thing I knew, I was being thrown onto the Curtis’s green couch. They’ve had that couch since before I met Soda; they got it from some thrift store a good ways north of our part of Tulsa. I let out a cry of surprise, before letting myself sink into the soft and familiar heavenly rectangle.

“Don’t move from here. I’ll get you some water, dumb butt.” Darrelle instructed, pointing her finger at me like she was trying to boss me around or something. As if that would ever happen. In all actuality, looking back on my relationship with Darrelle, that was pretty damn likely.

“No. Water’s lame.” I pouted, for no reason other than to just antagonize her. Darrelle shot me a look, and I shut my trap before she could bash my head in.

“I’m getting you water and you’re gonna like it, else your hangover’s gonna be nasty in the morning.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” I saluted her as she walked out of the room, and she sighed loudly enough for me to hear before disappearing into the next room. After she left, I became instantly bored now that I didn’t have decent company for these few brief minutes, my eyes found something interesting for me: the lamp next to the couch.

“Score.” I cheered to myself, sitting up and leaning to snatch the faded yellow lampshade off that dumb ol’ lamp. I put it on my head, fashioning it in such a manner so that I would look like one of the ridiculous hats worn by those new-age fashion models I see in the magazines I can’t afford down at the five n’dime. I sat there, right proud of myself, then returning to my previous position on the couch. I came to the eventual realization that I was, in fact, falling asleep. In between bouts of ‘resting my eyes’, a guy crouched in front of me and said something. I knew if I didn’t listen, I’d regret it when I woke up.

“Hey. Nice hat, man.” The guy said, leaning in and tapping my new lampshade hat.

“Mmm. Thanks.” Was all I could muster in my delirious, dreamlike state. Despite being able to feel very little at the moment, I still felt a small twinge of relief that that’s all he wanted to say. It was after that when I found myself finally slipping into sleep; sweet, peaceful sleep.

“Hey. Get up. Party’s over, dude.” I forced my eyes open to see the source of the voice, finding myself a bit startled at Darrelle’s surprisingly gorgeous yet mysteriously intimidating face shoved a little too close to mine. She was poking me in the chest and shaking me gently with her other hand; I could see a proper scowl on her pale face, her dark greenish brown eyes boring into mine as she kneeled in front of me.

“What? What time is it?” I said hoarsely, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s three in the fucking morning, dumbass. You’re the last one here, aside from Dallas.” Darrelle glanced through the window, where Dallas lay face down on the porch, completely motionless.

“Dal? You good?” I looked past Darrelle to Dallas, genuinely concerned for my poor, intoxicated friend.

“Don’t worry, she isn’t dead. I checked.” Darrelle laughed breathily, before standing up and plopping down on the couch next to me. She let out a lengthy exhale, tilting her head to me. I shot her a crooked grin, and she smiled sweetly, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. There was a certain glow in her eyes when she looked into mine, something I couldn’t quite pinpoint at the time.

“You’re a saint for hosting this thing. Is the place trashed?” I asked.

“Yeah, but not as bad as Pony kept saying it would be.” Darrelle ran her fingers through her dark, usually-straightened curly hair that fell just past her shoulders. “That kid’s such a goddamn nuisance sometimes. I just wish she would worry less and have more fun.”

“Amen, sister.” I said. “Where are your folks, anyways? Are they gonna annihilate you?”

“They’re visiting my dad’s cousin. She been sick, like, real sick. She ain’t gonna get better so my folks wanna spend some time with her before she kicks it.”

“Damn, that sucks big time. I’m real sorry about that, Darry.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ve never met her.” Darrelle distractedly pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She was biting her lip, a soundless debate going on in her head over whether or not she should say the words tucked back in her mouth.

“What happened with you and Soda, anyways?” Her words brought me back to some sort of reality. I normally didn’t talk about these kinds of things with Darrelle; usually it was Soda that I opened up to. In spite of this, I didn’t have Soda with me. Earlier during the party, at around 10, she’d left to go sleep over at her new boyfriend Alexander Lothrop’s house. I knew it was really because of me and so did the rest of the gang. Soda and I had been falling out of place the last few days, and as much as I wanted things to go back to the way they were before, my stubbornness came first and only thickened the wall between the two of us.

“Oh, jeez, um…” I scratched the back of my head, choosing my words with as much precision as possible. “You know how she’s dating that Alexander guy?”

“What, you mean Sandy?”

“She calls him that around you guys too?”

“Uh, yeah.” Darrelle gaze flashed across the room for a quick second, before settling back on me. “Go on.”

“We were both kind of in the wrong here, not just her; I’ll admit. Alexander’s kind of an airhead, in my opinion, but he’s got a rather decent future ahead of him. Now I love Soda, you know that, and she’s like a sister to me. I like to think I know her good enough, and we both agree I’m the wiser one out of the two, me being nine months older than her and all. But this kid is nearly eighteen, for christ’s sake. He’s leaving soon! And she loves him and all, but I don’t know, I guess I got jealous. I have every right to be! This asshole comes into our lives out of nowhere and takes Soda away from us, and suddenly she’s all ‘Oh, Steph, he’s the one, I just know it!’ and ‘I’m gonna marry Sandy someday!’

“Steph.”

“Yea?”

“Do you know Sandy?”

“Of course I do, I’ve met him once or twice.”

“But do you know him?”

“I…” She didn’t have to say anything more. She was giving me a look, kind of like that look a teacher gives you when you say ‘can I go to the bathroom’ instead of ‘may I go to the bathroom’. “You’re right. I’m being dumb. You’re giving him a chance, why shouldn’t I?”

“It is just teenage romance, after all. Don’t take it too seriously.” Her voice grew soft on the last few words, and we sat in silence for a few moments, before I suddenly burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” Darrelle studied my expression carefully, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I’m still drunk. I get obnoxious drunk after a few hours.” I sat back up, looking deep into her eyes. Her eyes sure were pretty. Usually they looked just plain dark, but in the right light, you could see they were a stunning grayish green, like a mossy creek stone after a rainstorm.

“You don’t have to be drunk to be obnoxious.” She teased softly, a thin smirk spreading across her lips.

“Woooooord, Darry. Wooord.” I sing-songed, bucking my head forward a little bit. Darrelle reached for the lampshade on my head, plucking it off and dropping it back on the lamp, casting a warmer glow on the room. She kept eye contact with me the whole time, which did something for me. Next thing I know, her hand was on my jawline and mine was on her shoulder and she was pulling me close, but I didn’t care, because I was too.

It would’ve been perfect, just like in the movies, only I was gloriously drunk. I ended up dipping my head somehow and her lips hit my forehead instead of my own lips. She yelped, and I snapped my head up, my face turning red. Hers was too, so much so that her already faded freckles were completely hidden.

“DarryIhavetotellyousomething.” I blurted out, and Darrelle nodded for me to go on. “IthinkImightalsolikegirlsbutIdontknow.”

“Oh.” Darrelle said, pressing her lips together. I jumped up off the couch, putting my hands on my hips and staring off into nothing in a pitiful display of fake confidence.

“Alright, then! I should hit the road right about now.” I said, turning on my heel and marching stiffly towards the front door.

“Okay! I’ll see you, then. You’re taking your bike, right?” Darrelle was gritting her teeth, as was I.

“Yes! No drinking and driving for this permit-holder!” I give Darrelle the most uncomfortable thumbs up one could ever imagine, and she did the same before I let myself slip out the front door and run into the front yard, picking up my bike and running with it, nearly hitting a car as I frantically swerved into the street.


	2. the way she talks to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> august eighteenth, the year nineteen sixty-three

“Fuck is that?” I sat up in my bed, eyes squeezed shut. The noise sounded again, and I let out a soft groan. The telephone was ringing at… the clock said two in the morning. Whoever the hell was calling my house at 2 AM could go to hell, but I wasn’t about to let it ring for longer and wake up everyone else in the house. Swearing under my breath, I pull myself off of my bed and run upstairs from my basement bedroom to the ground floor, where the phone is rattling in its hook, begging to be picked up. I complied, pissed and ready to cuss out the person on the other line.

“Steph? Is that you?” Before I could say anything, Darrelle’s voice crackled in over the speaker, and my breath hitched.

“Is anyone there?” The voice called again. I realized I hadn’t said anything back, so I tried to pull myself together as best I could and cleared my throat.

“Yeah, Darry, what’s up?” I said, leaning up against the wall, trying to whisper as low as possible so my dad wouldn’t fly down here and beat my ass. “You do know it’s two in the morning, right?”

“Come to my place.”

“Wait, you mean, like, now?”

“Yes.”

“Darry, what-“

“Steph, I want… I think I want to try girls.”

I was virtually stunned. I’ve never heard her speak to me like this; usually she was yelling at me for doing something dumb or cracking jokes (usually about Soda) with me. I clenched the phone in my hand, running my hand through my long, dark brown hair. Darrelle had always been absolutely boy-crazy, and never in my (at least conscious) mind would I imagine her going for a girl. Hell, she’d had a poster of James Dean on the ceiling above her bed since she was eleven. We hadn’t spoken at all since that night a week or so ago, partially because it was too goddamn awkward for me to get a word in with her about what I did, and partially because Soda was still pissed with me. I didn’t even really care about Soda and Sandy anymore, not after the party at least. My mind had been kept itself plenty busy with Darrelle. Chrissake.

“Oh. Okay, then.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Good.” Her voice was soft in her last word, and as soon as she finished I slammed the phone back on the hook. Head spinning, I slumped down on the wall, rubbing my eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Stephanie, what have you gotten yourself into this time? You fucking idiot.” I hissed to myself with a little chuckle. I didn’t know where this was going, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t intrigued to high hell about what could possibly be on this girl’s mind. Usually, it was me making the irrational decisions, with her always catching my ass before I could get killed in some dumb way, always insisting she knew better just because she was two years older.

And at that moment, I suddenly remembered I had fifteen minutes to get ready and bike all the way across to the other side of our neighborhood, and I sprang to my feet and scrambled down the basement steps. I nearly tripped over my air mattress as I reached for my dresser, grabbing a flannel to pull around my white t-shirt, stopping only to brush my teeth before I bounded out of my house, carefully shutting the squeaky back door behind me.

“Son of a bitch,” I wheezed under my breath as I dropped my bike behind the garage of the Curtis’s house, where I always left it whenever I came over. Their house was up in the hills, which meant I had to haul my scrawny ass up on my old rustbucket of a bike up steep roads for a good fifteen minutes before I actually got there. As much as it physically hurt me, I went to the Curtis’s house almost every day, at least up until Soda and I got into the fight two weeks ago. On the flipside, nobody ever came to my house, at least not anymore. Hell, I spent time with my gang mainly to stay out of my fuckin’ house; I didn’t need any of them coming in with me and facing the wrath of my old man. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I jogged up to the front door.

I hesitated slightly before knocking on the door, hoping I wouldn’t wake up Soda or Ponygirl. As I waited for someone to answer, I could still faintly hear I Saw Her Standing There by the Beatles playing on the Curtis’s record player in the living room. I bent my head, a bit perplexed. Sodapop had bought that record a few months ago, not long after it was released, with money she’d saved up from work. Boy, how she loved The Beatles; nearly as much as I did. Thing is, I couldn’t buy none of their albums, seeing as I had been unemployed at the time. At the time still meant something, as I’d been telling my folks. Soda said she’d get me a job and the gas station she started working for back in April, just so she could save up enough for the Beatles album. Still, it was odd and almost eerie that it was playing now at 2 AM.

“Hey. Thanks for coming.” I felt my heart skip a beat as I was snapped out of my thoughts by Darrelle, who sharply pulled open the dark blue wooden door. Her dark green eyes were sullen, but lit up like the stars when she saw me. Her hair was down, even though it rarely was, and she looked like an utter mess. She was wearing her old, off-white robe and flannel pajama pants, and her curly dark hair was knotted beyond belief. She held a mug filled with a reddish tea, 

“No problem, man. I was bored as hell, anyways.” I shrugged, letting my hands go limp in my pockets.

“You mean you were asleep?” Darrelle raised an eyebrow, and I let out an uneasy laugh. I couldn’t recall another time when I’d felt so tense around Darrelle, except maybe that one time in seventh grade when I’d snuck out with the gang and we saw my dad shopping at the very mall we were at.

“Yeah, I suppose.” I pushed some of my long, dark brown hair over my shoulder; playing with my hair was an nervous tick I had that Darrelle always liked to poke fun at me for, but this time she only smiled when she noticed me do it.

“Well, come on in, I guess. I made tea!” Darrelle was being a little louder than I would’ve liked, but I followed nonetheless. The bright lights in the kitchen made me wince; my eyes struggling with the sudden light change.

“Have you been awake this whole time?” I asked, blinking my eyes a few times.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Darrelle shrugged, reaching for the white teapot resting on the stove. A small, wavy line of steam trickled out from the spout, casting an aromatic spell on the room.

“Usually it’s you yelling at me and Soda to get to bed at only 12, but this is a nice change.” I said, watching her root around in the cupboard for a mug.

“Hah, yeah.” She paused for a moment before pulling out a little white mug, leaning on the counter a little bit as she relaxed. “I can see why you choose to stay up so late. The early, early morning like this is so cool. Nobody else is awake, but it isn’t necessarily lonely. I quite like it, though it’s almost… unsettling in a way. Eerie, I suppose.”

“See, Dar, now you get it.” I chirped, watching as she poured some of the tea into my mug. She passed it to me, and I gratefully nodded before taking a sip. She picked up her mug off the counter and held it out to me.

“Cheers.” She said. “Cheers to being idiots.”

“Amen.” I said, tapping my mug against hers. I don’t know why, but gradually I was feeling more relieved about everything.

“The word idiot has a stigma attached to it, Steph.” She took one last drink of her tea before putting it down in the sink, and her eyes flicked up to meet mine as she reached into the battered pockets of her slightly torn robe. “To be an idiot isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell my folks my whole life.” I quipped.

“Right, exactly! All it really means is that you’re batty, but, like, sometimes that can be in a good way.” Out of her pocket she pulled a blue Evans lighter and a Marlboro cigarette box tied to each other with a hair tie. I recognized the lighter; it was Darrelle’s. She’d stolen it the very first time when she wanted to try smoking, back in her delinquent days. My eyes widened in surprise as she flipped open the top of the lighter and whipped out a cigarette, lighting it and sticking it in between her lips like it was nothing. I was a smoker myself, but Darrelle was a whole different story. She hated cigarettes since the day she tried them, and refused whenever I offered her a smoke of mine.

“I guess.” I said, not really wanting to bring up the whole cigarette thing with Darrelle. Frankly, she looked hot with it, and I wasn’t about to yell at her for it. “Remember when we used to do idiot stuff together back in the sixth grade? You, me, and Soda? Man, was that the best.”

“Of course I do.” A warm smile quickly flashed across her face. “That really was quite fun. I’ve changed a lot in the past six years, Steph, but I’d still kill to blow up a Coke bottle in the elementary school parking lot and write my initials on the school doors, just like the old days.”

“Don’t put yourself down, Darry. As you can see, I like you plenty.” I flirted flamboyantly, flipping my hair. Darrelle let out a weary laugh.

“I’m not, don’t worry. I do like myself now.” A vacant look settled into the teen’s eyes, and she stared right through me, thoughts bringing mud to her mind. “Just… something’s off. It’s one of the reasons why I called you here.”

“I get that, I think. At least, I get it well enough. I doubt I’d ever actually be able to fully understand what goes on in that brain of yours.”

“I feel the same as you, man.” Her eyes came back to life, and suddenly she stood straight up. “Here, come upstairs with me.

“I’m down.” I mumbled, and I let her lead me back through the hallway and up the small, narrow flight of rickety red stairs that led to Darrelle’s attic bedroom, the sounds of the album still playing; the song now being Boys. Knowing the walls were very thin and that Ponygirl and Soda were sleeping downstairs, I lightened my footsteps as I stepped onto the worn-down white shag carpet and into the bedroom. I hadn’t been up there in a good few months, and my eyes had to adjust yet again to the dim lighting produced only by a small blue and gray lamp sitting on Darrelle’s desk.

“Sorry for the mess. Anyways, welcome back to my spot.” Darrelle spun around as she stepped into the room, holding out her arms for grand effect.

“No, it’s fine. My room is messier.” I have no idea why I lied about something so trivial, but I wanted to be courteous, I suppose. Or I was just getting back on my old streak of compulsive lying, and I know the latter was a helluva lot more likely. In reality, my neat freak dad would have yelled my ear off if there was merely a misplaced shirt on the floor of my room.

“Sounds like you. No offense, though.” Darrelle walked over towards her bed, picking up a stray pair of jeans and an old bra and tossing them off into the corner.

“None taken, Dar, but you don’t really strike me as the messy room type.” I pointed out, looking around her room. She had added more posters to her ceiling-wall since I’d last visited, some of which were quotes from books I’d probably never read and others were just of characters from comic strips. Yet still, in the middle of them all, James Dean still hung strong in the middle, hair still neatly combed and cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Most of it is just due to the fact that I don’t have the time. You know how it is; my schedule’s jam-fuckin’-packed. School, work, cheerleading practice, hanging out with you guys. It does feel good when I do clean my room, though.”

“That’s respectable. I can’t stand cheerleading, though, but to each their own.” I murmured.

“You don’t have to keep your voice down, Steph.” Darrelle stretched back on her worn-down mattress of a bed, gently placing the cigarette back between her camellia lips.

“What do you mean?”

“Sodapop’s staying at Sandy’s again and Pony’s over at Curly Shepard’s. I figured it was God’s way of telling me it was time, so that’s why I called you up. It’s fate, I guess.” She shrugged, teeth gently clamping down on her cigarette. She certainly had to be some sort of crazy since, again, I’d only once seen Darrelle smoke before in all the years I’d known her.

“God’s a funny word to use in these circumstances, dont’cha think?” I joked, following with an somewhat awkward laugh. I shoved my hands deep in the pockets of my sweater, eyes mindlessly following the little trail of smoke slowly trickling from the edge of the cigarette.

“You’re right, actually.” Darrelle let her cleanly shaven legs dangle off the edge of the mattress, her eyes slowly drifting to me. “I nearly forgot why I called you here, you’re such a damn good conversationalist. Why don’tcha c’mere, Steph.”

I wordlessly obliged, and without her even having to ask I took off my sweater and threw it on the ground, leaving on my white t-shirt and skinny jeans. With a dumb smile on my face I flopped down next to her, and we stared at the ceiling together.

“You know, I never thought it would turn out like this.” I said breathlessly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Me neither.” Darrelle responded, and then she let her eyes close, breathing out a long stream of smoke. She put out her cigarette on her desk, leaving a black spot that would remain there until God knows when.

I felt myself drown in her kiss, and I let the world fade out from around me, with The Beatles’ Ask Me Why now playing softly downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time doesn't matter anymore.

“Shit, Darry.” I breathed in between kisses, letting myself fall to the side a little bit. She was a half decent kisser, from what I could tell. Her tongue explored my mouth as mine did hers, and occasionally one of us let out a soft moan. She let my arm wrap around her neck, and she loosely bunched the ends of my hair in her fist. Darrelle pulled off for a second, her mossy green eyes twinkling like the stars.

“You’ve… done it before, right?”

“Of course I have, remember? I think I told you, I lost it sophomore year to Archer Brassgirdel.” I said.

“Right, right. I did always think he was kinda cute, but, like, too geeky.” Darrelle nodded.

“And you lost yours to Austin Connelly.”

“Yeah, right.” Darrelle paused, and bit her lip. “But have you ever done it with, uh, a girl?”

“I…” I halted my words, gazing into Darrelle’s eyes. I didn’t know how she would react if I told her. “I have, actually. Devon Fivey gave me a pot brownie when we were hanging out way back in May this year and next thing I knew, she was making out with me, and it’s not like I was stopping that show. Pretty freaky shit.”

“Damn.” I saw a short scowl form on Darrelle’s face. “I always sorta fuckin’ knew she was gay, but I pushed it off to the side.”

“We all did. Nobody ever talks about gay stuff, unless it’s an insult.”

“That’s true.” I said. “Well, now *we* can.” 

“God, where have you been all my life?” She sighed after a pause, a laugh shadowing the edge of her words.

“Right here, baby.” I winked, and Darrelle blushed heavily.

“That’s hot as hell; when you call me baby. Keep doin’ that.” Right as I was about to come up with a witty response, she leapt right back into the kiss, pushing me against the wall next to her bed a little bit. I let out another moan; this time I wasn’t able to control it as much as I had with the previous ones. She was still fisting my hair, but now her hips were beginning to grind against mine a little bit. I slowly lowered my other hand down her back until I reached her hips, pulling them in a little bit.

“Hold on a sec.” Darrelle backed up, stretching out her back. She pulled off her baggy gray undershirt and tossed it over near where her robe had been dropped minutes earlier, leaving her with nothing but her bra and black and yellow flannel pajama pants on. She reached behind her back, all while maintaining perfect eye contact with me, and unclipped her lacy white bra, throwing it off to the side.

“Oh. Wow.” I sucked in my breath, trying to take my eyes off of them. I couldn’t help myself; I’d always been a sucker for a nice pair of tits, and Darrelle was no exception. I remembered, back when I was thirteen and hitting puberty like a truck, how I couldn’t stop looking at then-fifteen Darrelle’s double D’s in her pink bikini at the local pool… well, none of that mattered anyways, especially not now.

“Stop it, you perv.” She rolled her eyes, unable to contain her smile. To shut me up, she leaned back in kissing me deeply. I kissed her back, shamelessly groping her breasts. Her breath hitched with pleasure, and I felt her hands travel to my hips, hooking her thumbs under my shirt. She lowered her head, sucking on my neck and sending shivers down my spine.

“Jesus Christ…” I groaned, and a soft gust of air hit my stomach as Darrelle lifted my shirt up and over my head, hastily dropping it off of the bed. Her hands flew to my breasts, sliding them under my bra. Now, I was decently sized, being a C cup, though they were nothing compared to Darrelle’s. Still, at least I wasn’t Two-Bit, who was stuck with a B cup. Since puberty, I’d added that little fact to my ego collection.

“Hey, they’re not as small as I thought.” Darrelle mused, leaning slowly and sucking a bit on my upper breast. I let out a whimper, biting my lip, a smirk on my face.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” I asked breathily.

“I don’t really give a shit, as long as you take it rough.” Suddenly, she got up off of me, an idea hiding in the corners of her mind from the glint in her eyes.

“Wait…” I gasped, blinking in confusion. Darrelle was walking over to the opposite corner of her room to her bookshelf, where she reached inside one of the little shoeboxes of things she had perched on top. Those shoeboxes were filled with all sorts of things; hair products, drawings, old homework, dolls, and anything else you could possibly imagine. I tried to move my head to see what she was doing, when she whipped out a long, pink, shiny rubber-looking… thing.

“Is that…?” I began, and Darrelle flashed me a mischievous grin.

“Yup. Silvio Brown got it for me as a gag gift for my birthday, back when we were friends.”

“Wait, you were friends with Silvio Brown?” I tilted my head in pure and utter puzzlement at this revelation. “As in, the one and only Silvio Brown who used to go out with Dallas? The one who she constantly shit-talks and blows up whenever we mention his name? The one who she won’t even let Johnna talk to?”

“Yeah, yeah, but for like only a month last year. It was mostly a professional friendship, with me being over eighteen and being able to buy booze and him not wanting to risk getting arrested every time he showed his fake ID or straight up stealing the booze himself. So he payed me to buy it for him.” She casually explained.

“God damn, Darry, that sounds pretty delinquent-y of you. Didn’t know you were still bad.” I teased, and Darrelle sighed playfully, walking back over to the bed.

“Whatever. Anyways, don’t worry, I haven’t used it before. Not jacking off with this thing was sort of a testament of my hatred to Silvio. But screw him, anyways.” She shrugged, now kneeling in front of me.

“Damn straight. Silvio’s a prick if I ever saw one-“

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Darrelle deeply kissed me, hand on my jawline, giving it little yet passionate squeezes.

“You got it, Dar.” I obliged in a gasp, letting myself slide down the wall a little bit. Darrelle was looming over me, and I felt her open her legs and begin to straddle me above my knees. She pulled away from the kiss for a brief moment, looking down at my hips.

“The pants, lose ‘em.” She commanded, and I was surprised at how good she was at this.

“Gladly, babe.” I quipped, pulling my skinny jeans down and chucking them at the door with a triumphant whoop. I had given up containing my excitement to do this a while ago; for fuck’s sake, I was banging the girl of my dreams.

“Alright, now, here we go.” Darrelle slipped her fingers under the waistband of my now-extremely-wet lacy gray panties and pulled them down my thighs, revealing what was under them. Meanwhile, I was watching this whole thing with beady, hungry eyes, my arms folded cockily behind my head. Despite my composure, I was nervous as hell. Sure, I’d had sex before, but doin’ it with Darrelle… I don’t know why, but it made me shaky as hell. I didn’t want to show it, though. She’d surely mention it if I did.

“Shit… I’ve never seen another girl’s, uh, area before. Not like this, at least.”

“I have.” I muttered with a mouthy flair, and Darrelle scowled.

“Yeah, yeah. We get it, ya big homo.” The dominance she’d had a few moments ago had seemingly vanished. She was nervous, and I wanted so bad to tell her off about it. It was always so satisfying to get the better of Darrelle, since it so rarely happened.

“Says the girl literally having sex with another girl.” I teased. From the look on Darrelle’s face, I knew I had to say something, almost as if she subconsciously wanted me to. “…Do you want me to…”

“Yeah. I kind of have no idea what I’m doing.” Darrelle bent her head a little, cheeks red.

“God, you’re too cute.” I said, sitting up as Darrelle leaned in to kiss me. I kissed her back, subtly moving her down. She grabbed my wrists and forced her pants down, laughing a little bit. She let her head hit the pillow, her eyes now burning with lust.

“What are you lookin’ at me like that for?” I asked, gripping her waist with one hand.

“Mmm, you know.” She sheepishly murmured, occasionally tugging at strands of my long wavy hair.

“Do I, now?”

“Oh, just fuck me, Randle.” She almost growled, passion in her tone.

“Sure thing, baby.” I said, moving my hands lower and lower, kneeling over her. I ran my hand over her vagina, eyes wide, taking in the experience as best I could. However, I didn’t want to tease Darrelle, at least not now. I gently pushed my index finger in her entrance, my other hand a bit higher in the area. Softly I moved my hand around, trying to find what I was looking for.

“Jesus- Fuck, Steph!” Darrelle cried out in pleasure, her yelp fading into a moan. I’d found her clit, clearly. “You’re damn good at this.”

“You haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” I said, pulling my finger out and sliding it back in again and again, trying to quicken my pace while consistently rubbing her clit. Darrelle bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Should I move on to two?” I asked, and Darrelle nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, oh God, yes. Do the dildo afterwards, please.” She begged, only making me more aroused.

“Fine by me.” I casually obliged, adding my middle finger as well. I hadn’t found her g-spot yet, but I had a feeling I’d find it soon.

“Oh!” She screamed, eyes flying open. I briefly slowed down my pace, meeting her gaze. “With your fingers - wherever you’d been hitting, keep doing that!”

“Got it.” I said, pushing in and out as rapidly as I could.

“Aachhhh…” She arched her back a little, eyes rolling back. “I wanna go the whole way, Steph, I’m close!”

“Okay, okay!” I breathed, trying to keep up with her demands. I never thought Darrelle would beg me for anything but food, but I sure as hell wasn’t complaining. I reached for the dildo, wrapping my wet fingers around it. I held it to Darrelle’s entrance, teasing her only a little bit. After a long sigh from her, I pushed the dildo in, hitting her g-spot on the first go.

“Shit!” She screeched, bucking her hips and grabbing me by my shoulders and pulling me forwards. When her mind finally caught up to her body, she realized she was directly in front of me and kissed me long and sweet. “I liked that.”

“I did too.” I admitted, straightening my posture for a moment. I pushed the dildo in and out, and after only about ten strokes Darrelle arched her back and let out one final cry, her come spilling out all over the rubber toy.

“Goddamn, man.” She whispered, eyes fluttering. She looked utterly exhausted, which satisfied me. “That was the best sex I’d had… ever.”

“I hope it was.” I quipped, laying down beside her. I assume she’d want to sleep; she seemed practically dead. I closed my eyes, opening them after a few moments to see Darrelle sitting up and staring down at me.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you sleep without coming, right?” She placed her hand on my upper arm, blinking softly.

“Well, I mean…” I struggled to find the right words, and Darrelle was already sitting in between my legs. She flashed me a peace sign with her two fingers, and my eyes widened in lusty anticipation as she leaned forward and jammed those fingers inside of me.

“Oh, christ!” I heaved, feeling my hips rise with sudden pleasure.

“Did I really hit your spot on the first try?”

“Apparently…”

“Well, damn, way to go me.” She said under her breath, applying more pressure to my clitoris with two fingers on her other hand. This produced a whimper from me, and a dopey smile spread across my face.

“Darry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m definitely gonna come soon.” I moaned, throwing my head back into the pillow. A blush crept over Darrelle’s face.

“I gotta say, I’m quite flattered.” She mumbled, turning her gaze back down to her hands. She went faster and faster, and my vision started to cloud from pure pleasure.

“Ah, God, fuck me, Darry!” I called out, my entire body spasming with ecstasy. My hips jerked upward, and Darrelle let herself fall next to me after I was done.

“Thanks a ton for coming out tonight.” She smirked, laying down on her back as I stared up at the slanted attic ceiling.

“My pleasure.” I joked, and she gave me a quick little punch in the arm.

“‘Night, Steph.” Darrelle said, her voice becoming milder. I took a few moments to respond, thoughts corrupting the usual functioning of my brain.

“Goodnight, D-“ I paused, seeing that she was actually asleep now. Her chest heaved slightly up and down, and I could faintly hear her breathing. Smiling to myself, I turned to face her, closing my eyes as well.

“G’night, baby.” Right as I was about to drift off to sleep, I felt Darrelle’s hand drape over my body, giving my shoulder a weak squeeze before lying limp. “Love you.”


End file.
